


Missed Opportunities

by Jeanbean1521



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/F, Not Happy, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27291181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeanbean1521/pseuds/Jeanbean1521
Summary: After an unexpected phone call, Hermione reminisces her mistakes.
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Missed Opportunities

The sun was streaming through closed curtains, lighting up the packed-to-the-brim bookshelves, the made-up bed, and the neat desk with the brunette woman sitting at it. Her unruly curls tumbled over her shoulders, leading to a stooped-over back and tanned arms. She was leaning over parchment that was already close to overfilling with words, her hand curled around a quill that was flying furiously to write and write and write. To get every emotion out, banish it and lock it away.  


She had been like this all night; her eyes were red and tear tracks patterned her cheeks like small spiderwebs. Why, oh why did I do this? She asked herself regularly throughout this mad tumble into the rabbit hole. 

All because of a stupid phone-call.

. . . . . . . .

_Hermione opened her apartment door with a sigh, dropping to keys onto a nearby table and toeing her shoes off. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to massage an oncoming migraine out of her head as she walked along the hallway to her living room. The couch was facing a small TV that she had gotten herself despite her involvement with the magical community, magic could do many things, but she could not just abandon the electricity she had grown to rely on._

_After the war, she had predictably come back to Hogwarts to finish her education, graduating top of her class and going into the Ministry to work in the Magical Creatures Department. She wanted to make changes to help creatures who had been discriminated against for centuries, and she had plans. But the majority of her colleagues were highly old fashioned and bigoted, believing that all creatures were dangerous if they dare to breathe, and today was another day spent trying to remain aloof while they struck down every idea she had to change the department and move it towards more modern views._

_The Gryffindor fell onto the couch, sprawling herself onto it closing her eyes. She was glad she had a home to go to at the end of the day to relax, it was her safe haven and the place no-one knew about because she had had her fill with paparazzi and fans rushing at her._

_Her relaxation was interrupted by the phone ringing in the kitchen, bouncing off of the walls and making her remember the raging headache she was sporting._

_The brunette lifted herself to walk over to the kitchen, yanking the phone off of the table and barking into it. “What.”_

_There was a silence on the other end of the line until the voice of her best friend travelled into her ear._

_“Hi, ‘Mione, it’s Ginny.”_

_Hermione’s eyes widened; she hadn’t heard from Ginny in… months._

_“Ginny?” She paused, but when she did not get a reply to her questioning tone voice, she continued, “Is everything- Are you alright?”_

_“Yes, I just… have some news for you,” Ginny mumbled into the phone, she seemed hesitant, and it had the brunette in the kitchen panicking._

_“What is it, is Harry okay? Is someone in the hospital? Oh, god, are the children alright? Are-“_

_“Fleur is marrying Bill.” The redhead interrupted Hermine’s rambling, and all of a sudden it felt like her heart was suddenly ripped out of her chest and fed to dragons. It was as if hand-picked memories from her past resurfaced and flashed before her eyes, brought out the biggest mistake she had over made._

_“I-…. Goodbye, I need to go.” She did not allow room for a reply, merely putting the phone down and staring at it like it was the source of all her problems._

_She pivoted towards the direction of her room and took the nearest quill, dipping it in ink and touching it to a fresh bit of parchment._

__

_. . . . . . . ._

That was how she had ended up here, still writing since the night before, crumpled bits of parchment surrounded her room, thrown around everywhere because she had discarded them. It was really hard putting her spiralling thoughts to paper. And she kept crying because every time she tried to pull at a feeling to emerge it brought out a string of memories she had kept locked away for years.  


So she wrote and wrote to give them freedom, and with every scrawl of her quill the pain did not lessen, she had never trusted the idea that talking to somebody could help you feel better less, although she guessed this didn’t really count anyway.

_. . . . . . . ._

__

_Fleur leaned down, locking those sweet, sweet lips with the shorter brunette. She pushed and pushed, and Hermione could do nothing but push back. Her whole body was going against her will and doing what logic screamed at her not to, and she could not stop if she wanted to, every force in existence was pulling them together. It was like for a second, nothing mattered, not the books that had tumbled out of Hermione’s hands when she brought them to Fleur’s hair. And especially not the fact that she was now officially late for class._

_Those lips pulled away and the Gryffindor simply chased them, not willing to abstain from finally getting what she had been stopping herself from persuing, not willing to let herself consider the rushing feelings inside her chest. She tried opening her eyes to look at the blonde properly but ended up looking up at the Beuxbatons student through her eyelashes, hooded eyes dilated and confused. Fleur seemed to be dreading something, her brows scrunched up, eyes reluctant._

_“Mon amour, I ‘ave to tell you somezing. I am… I am your mate, ‘Ermione.” The blonde looked into brown orbs, and the brunette’s eyes were now very much not hooded, it was as if icy water had been dumped over her head, and terror shone in her, evident like the bright, burning sun._

_Hermione stared wide-eyed into those beautiful azures, the light, flowy hair framing the blemish-free face and the pink lips now gorgeously swollen from the kiss. She stepped out of the embrace that they had gotten into while kissing, backing away with every word spoken, “I- I have to go. I’m sorry, I- I cannot do this.” The brunette turned and ran, leaving her bag and the pile of books lying on the floor, ignoring her name being yelled in that lovely French accent down the hallway, making her escape like an animal chased by a predator._

__

_. . . . . . . ._

That one was a particularly heartbreaking memory, it was the first of many mistakes. The initial of countless missed opportunities to be with a woman who completed her to the very last minuscule trait.  


She wished she had kept the time turner Professor McGonagall had given her in her third year, if she still possessed it, she could find a way reverse the starting point of her mistakes and have her chance to love Fleur properly. To convince her younger self to not worry about her future plans, to embrace the news more agreeably and be the best mate she could for the Frenchwoman. 

_. . . . . . . ._

__

_Hermione awoke with a jump, hacking water to ease her burning lungs, her eyes tearing up at the effort of breathing. She gagged slightly at the impression of a bit of seaweed stuck in her throat, trying to spit it out to the best of her ability, but it seemed she could do no better than claw at her neck. Arms wrapped around her waist and tightened to pull her against their chest over, and over, and over again. She had read about this somewhere, during one of the many times that she was perusing the library for more knowledge, but her mind did not seem to want to cooperate and help her remember that particular night of reading._

_With a particularly strong push against the brunette’s stomach from the person’s arms, the seaweed finally expelled itself from her throat, and she bent over coughing. A hand smoothed over her back, someone muttering reassurance she suspected only she could hear. Hermione turned and stiffened at finding Fleur standing across from her, droplets of water still on her skin, and her skin broke out in goosebumps at the realization that the owner of the hand still on her back was the person who she shared her first kiss with._

_“Fleur….”_

_The champion’s face scrunched in agony, and the resulting pain deep in Hermione’s heart nearly made her fall back onto her knees, but it dissipated as quickly as it came, like the fog over a lake when sunshine came. Fleur pulled her hand away, turning with what seemed to be a considerable effort, leaving the brunette clenching her fists, so the nail cut into her flesh, to stop herself from following, listening to the cheers from the crowd of students that seemed oh, so unsuitable to the broken core of her being._

__

_. . . . . . . ._

__

_All Hermione felt was agony. It ran through her veins and stretched from the word now engraved on her arm, burning the very core of her being. Aftershocks of the Cruciatos curse overtook at irregular periods, and she swore she felt the weight of a body on top of her, hot breath ghosting across her ear and saying derogatory statements about her. It was as if she was reliving her torture all over again, every excruciating moment._

_But through the unspeakable misery, she felt a cool hand on her forehead, a velvety voice whispering soothing encouragements. Despite the little time she had spent with the woman, Hermione could recognize the calming thrall that could belong only to Fleur anywhere._

_The brunette opened her eyes to be blinded by the sunlight streaming through the windows, and the sheer beauty of Fleur Delacour. This woman was a beacon of light in the darkness of the war, Hermione’s beautiful angel. Her heart started beating like a war drum at the very sight of Fleur, like every. Single. Time._

_Fleur’s head turned to look into chocolate browns, eyes widening at the sight of her patient awake, she rushed to check up on Hermione, preforming diagnostic spells and god knows what the frantic wand-waving did. The Gryffindor winced when Fleur’s wand accidentally grazed a particularly sore part at her ribs._

_“I am so sorry, ‘Ermione! I am trying my best but zis is harder than I zought, I cannot bear to see you like zis, but you are so stubborn and you got hurt and-“ By that time in the Frenchwoman’s ramblings she had switched to French, and the brunette’s mind was too hazy to bother translating the worried speed-talking of her saviour, she simply basked in the fact that the veela was worried about her. Her eyes shut closed, drifting off to sleep to the sound of a velvet sweet voice, ignoring the thoughts of never being able to touch the veela because of her utter stupidity._

__

_. . . . . . . ._

_Hermione’s memory of that brief time being cared for by her mate was unclear, all she recalled was the comfort she felt when with that wonderful woman and thinking that she loved her. But how could it be otherwise? Subconsciously, she had loved the blonde from the moment she saw her, dreaming about her and trying to relieve the persisting ache of her soul in the cover of her four-poster bed…_

_. . . . . . . ._

__

_Sweat covered tan skin in the cover of the night, the maroon curtains of the Gryffindor quarters were drawn around the bed, hiding the brunette behind them. The brunette’s chest rose and fell franticly with her labour induced strenuous breathing. Her hand moved under her sleeping shorts to the thoughts of long, strong legs, yearning for nimble fingers to replace her own. The girl’s hips thrust into her hand, pushing her closer to the edge, digits moved, in and out, in and out._

 _With a final flutter of her eyes, Hermione climaxed, dreading having to face the object of her repressed desires with the light of dawn._

__

_. . . . . . . ._

The woman lifted her pen from the parchment, seeming not to remember anything she had written in the rush of memories that had suddenly enveloped her as she was in the process of writing. She read the letter hundreds of times, thinking that this was the most truth she had expressed in years.

__

_Dear Fleur,_

_For the first time in my life, I do not know what to write. I have been called the ‘Brightest Witch of Her Age’ my whole life, and yet, I do not know what to tell you. I guess I should start with the fact that I have regrets, and the biggest one is letting you go. I wish that when you told me about being your soulmate I hadn’t run, I wish I got you in my arms and never let you go, embraced the love I knew you could have given me. But I didn’t even get the chance to experience anything more than that wonderful kiss._

_When you kissed me the day we met I felt like my whole world had fallen into place, like I was a dying woman who found heaven and I grabbed onto it, grabbed onto you. But then you pulled away and told me that I was your mate, a soulmate who was supposed to stay with you for the rest of our lives. And I got scared._

_I had had plans for my life since I had found out about magic, I was 14 years old and my life was planned until the moment that I was at least 35. And I got scared._

_Scared that having another person share my life would derail all of the carefully laid out details of my path to success._

_So, I pushed you away, every time you tried speaking to me again I made up excuses and ran away. And I kept running away until there was nothing to run from, because it was the end of the year and you had to fly away in that humongous carriage your school-owned to leave me standing there with a pit in my heart. And now I have no heart, it belonged to you the moment came waltzing into the Great Hall, but now I know that you won’t be here to give it back, and I have no one to blame but myself._

_Thank you for taking care of me during the war at the cottage, I know for a fact that there would be not one piece of Hermione Jean Granger if you had not been the one to take care of me._

_You know, after I graduated, I tried looking for you, but then I thought that you could not possibly take me back after what I had done to you. And so, I drifter through my planned Ministry job, working without really enjoying it as much as I thought I would. Fleur Delacour, I think you ruined me for the world. Without really trying to, you imprinted yourself in my subconsciousness, my soul, and I let you walk away rejected. Now we will never know what could have happened, what stolen moments in unoccupied rooms could have been spent locking our lips as if nothing mattered. And I cannot express how much I regret not giving us the chance to find out._

_How my heart aches with longing for your touch, the memory of it so fleeting and yet immersing me in its entirety, drowning me until all I could think about is you. I heard your laughter from the Ravenclaw table sometimes, and I now wonder if I could have been the cause of such a jubilus sound. If that pull I felt towards you could have been satisfied, if I had only given in to your azure eyes, shimmering hair swinging in the wind, cheeks tinted red from the cold. I wish I had not abstained from the entirety of your person._

_I cannot honestly say that I am happy for your marriage with William, he has gotten to love you and who you will spend the rest of your life with, but I know that I had long ago lost my chance to do just that. I hope he does not ever let you go, and give you everything you deserve, as I should have._

_Yours forever,_

_Hermione Granger._

__

Tears stained the page, smudging some of the words there; Hermione knew she will never send Fleur that letter. 

__

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> Wowsies, that was hard to write, very angsty and the first thing I have written that had absolutely no happy ending in sight. I apologise for not updating my other fics, I blame lack of inspiration  
> <_<  
> >_>  
> Don’t tell anyone ;), but I have made a chat where you can talk about fanfiction and really anything, here’s the link - https://discord.gg/cAvTCnQremi  
> We only have 4 members (including me) but I hope you can liven it up :)


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